


High Lord's Meeting

by shieraseastar03



Series: ACOWAR [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Confessions, F/M, M/M, Multi, Political Alliances, The Autumn Court (ACoTaR), The Dawn Court (ACoTaR), The Day Court (Acotar), The Night Court, The Spring Court (ACoTaR), The Summer Court (ACoTaR), The Winter Court (ACoTaR), War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 01:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19032130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieraseastar03/pseuds/shieraseastar03





	1. Getting Ready

The next two days were so busy that the lesson with Azriel was the only time Shiera trained with him. The spymaster had returned from dispatching the messages Mor had written about the meeting moving up. They had agreed on the date, at least. But Mor’s declaration of the spot, despite her unyielding language, had been universally rejected. Thus continued the endless back-and-forth between Courts.

 

Under the Mountain had once been their neutral meeting place. Even if it hadn’t been sealed, no one was inclined to meet there now.

 

So the debate raged about who would host the gathering of all the High Lords. Well, five of them and a High Lady. Beron, at last, had deigned to join. But no word had come from the Spring Court, though they knew the messages had been received. All of them would go, save Amren and Nesta, who the former insisted needed to practice more. Especially when Amren had found a passage in the Book last night that might be what they needed to fix the wall.

 

With only hours to spare the evening before, it was finally agreed that the meeting would take place in the Dawn Court. It was close enough to the middle of the land, and since Kallias, High Lord of Winter, would not allow anyone into his territory after the horrors Amarantha had wrought upon its people, it was the only other area flanking that neutral middle land. Rhys and Thesan, High Lord of the Dawn Court, were on decent terms. Dawn was mostly neutral in any conflict, but as one of the three Solar Courts, their allegiance always leaned toward each other. Not as strong an ally as Helion Spell-Cleaver in the Day Court, but strong enough.

 

It didn’t stop Rhys, Mor, and Azriel from gathering around the dining table at the town house the night before to go over every kernel of information they’d ever learned about Thesan’s palace, about possible pitfalls and traps. And escape routes. It was an effort not to pace, not to ask if perhaps the risks outweighed the benefits. So much had gone wrong in Hybern. So much was going wrong throughout the world. Every time Azriel spoke, Alec heard his roar of pain as that bolt went through his chest. Every time Mor countered an argument, he saw her pale-faced and backing away from the king. Every time his father asked for his opinion, he saw him kneeling in his brother’s blood, begging the king to save his life. Every time he heard Shiera giving ideas, he saw her back being whipped, again and again and again.

 

Nesta and Amren paused their practicing in the sitting room every so often so that the latter could chime in with some bit of advice or warning regarding the meeting. Or so that Amren could snap at Nesta to concentrate, to push harder. While she herself combed through the Book. A few more days, Amren declared when Nesta at last went upstairs, complaining of a headache. A few more days, and Nesta, through whatever mysterious power, might be able to do something. That is, Amren added, if she could crack that promising section of the Book in time. And with that, the dark-haired female bid them good night, to go read until her eyes were bleeding, she claimed. Considering how awful the Book was, Shiera wasn’t entirely sure if she was joking. The others weren’t, either.

 

Shiera barely touched her dinner. And she barely slept that night, twisting in the sheets until Rhys woke and patiently listened to her murmur her fears until they were nothing but shadows.

 


	2. Dress and Crown

Shiera walked around the room, with her updo already done but still trying to decide what dress she could wear. “Could I suggest one?” Rhys purred, making his mate shiver but she was able to nod. He offered his hand and when she joined hers, he winnowed them both to one room in the House of Wind.

 

“This was my mother's favourite room, here is where she made your dresses. When you came I didn't give you all because I didn't know how much would you stay and then I was so focused in make you smile again that… Here you have the rest, but there is one that I thought you should wear today” Rhysand explained with his right arm resting on her waist. He opened the cupboard, he took a huge dress and laid it on the bed.

 

“When she showed me the dresses I saw this one and I didn't understand why she chose this mix of colours, at first I thought that it was because the blue sky but now I have realized why, it's perfect for you, it's exactly like you” he whispered dropping a sweet kiss on her cheek.

 

Shiera looked at the wonderful dress, the huge skirt was made of a blue silk… The exact color of the sea, of Tarquin's eyes.

 

And it had black gemstones on it, like dark and beautiful stars. The upper part was just the opposite, it was made of black silk and turquoise gemstones. Rhys was right, the dress was just like her, like her homes, Courts and loves, blue and black. Shiera turned her head to her mate, her wonderful mate, “Rhys… You are perfectly right, thank you” she whispered, caressing his cheek and pressed her lips against his, on a passionate kiss.

 

* * *

 

 

Later, they arrived again at their room.

 

“Mmm… Could I make another suggestion, Shiera darling?” Rhys purred and Shiera nodded again. “As a High Lady, now of two Courts, I think you should wear a crown to the Meeting” he opined and she nodded again. “You could wear the one of our wedding or choose one of my family's, we have a large collection of them, they are all yours, you can do whatever you want with them, my love” he murmured.

 

Shiera was nervous, and she tried to explain “Rhys… Mmm…” she barely spoke but her voice betrayed her. He wrapped his arms around her, “What happens? You know you can tell me everything” he whispered gently.

 

She took between her hands a silver opened box and looked at his violet eyes, “When we left Adriata, Cress gave me this. She told me that… It was traditional of their Court that when… when the High Lord got married, a year after the ceremony, this would be his gift to his bride. Cress told me that… That Tarquin wanted me to have it someday… I love the crown you gave me, you know I love it, I wore it during our wedding and that day was so perfect… And it gave me courage during the last visit to Hewn City… But I thought that maybe… That maybe I could wear this today” she confessed.

 

Rhys looked at her bright green eyes filled with fear of what he could think of wanting to wear that crown. He took the beautiful crown between his hands, he placed it on her dark hair and passed his left arm around her back, his right hand caressing her neck and head as he pressed his lips on her forehead. Shiera cuddled Rhys with strength, being grateful while she rested her head on bis chest, hearing his beating heart.

 

“I love you, Shiera darling” he spoke, “Thank you” she replied in a whisper, kissing his chest. “You are thanking me for loving you?” Rhys purred with a funny grin, “I am thanking you for everything… I cannot express how much...” she began but she realized that indeed she could. She lowered completely her mental shields and Rhys felt everything she felt and they understood that no words were needed in that moment, their souls spoke form themselves.

 

* * *

 

 They separated a bit, “I'll give you time to get ready, we will wait downstairs” he declared dropping a kiss on her temple. But before leaving he couldn't avoid look again at his sweet mate. “I… I have to warn you about today's Meeting” he confessed, “Warn me? About Tamlin?” Shiera asked.

 

Rhys took a deep breath and began to speak.

 

“My Court has never been the most loved one and I am not the most beloved High Lord… You have to understand that you are my mate… I tried to warned you about being with me and today you will understand why. The last time that we were all the High Lords together was… Was after the third trial, when we resurrected you, when we saw how… how Tarquin died in your arms and in the funeral” his voice a (mere) whisper as he lowered his head.

 

“For them you are Shiera cursebreaker, the young human girl who faced Amarantha, you are Tarquin's wife... He… He was the best High Lord who ever lived… He was kind, gentle, nice… He was your husband, you went to Under the Mountain for him, you… died for him”.

 

Shiera noticed what his feelings through the bond and her heart filled with his sadness as she cuddled him closer.

 

“But now… You will go to that meeting with me, as my mate and High Lady. Under the Mountain you were fighting to save as all, to be happy finally with Tarquin and I… I made you wear those dresses, I made that bargain with you, then I kidnapped you from your wedding at the Spring Court… For all of them I am the dark lord, who stole away the bride of spring, the widow of the High Lord who gave his life for Prythian. I am a demon, and a nightmare, and I will meet a bad end. They all know what I had to do for over fifty years… But Tamlin, he is the golden prince, the hero, the one who killed Amarantha, instead I…” Rhys’ voice broke completely as his lip trembled.

 

Their eyes lined in silver, their hearts aching.

 

Shiera moved her head as she cupped his face between her small hands, making him  look at her face.

 

“Rhys… The villain is the person who locks up the maiden and throws away the key,  you are the one who let me out. You saved me at Calanmai, you warned us after the Solstice, you saved my life during two trials, you saved me from being raped again, you brought me back to life… During the wedding, I was dying inside, my heart was completely shattered and you saved me, you made me want to live again, live not just survive. You are the best High Lord alive and the best father anyone could ask for. You are my mate… Tarquin knew and he was happy that you were my mate, he knew how kind your heart was. You are my mate and I am proud and grateful of it, I don't care what they will think. I love you, Rhys. Beyond measure and to whatever end” Shiera whispered with all the love of her heart.

 

“I… I don't deserve you” he was able to declared but she moved her head again, “I was going to say that I am the one who doesn't deserve you but… We both deserve each other, that's why we are mates, my love” she alleged, her nose touching his, her forehead joined to his.

 

Rhys cupped her face between his trembling hands as he whispered “I love you”.


	3. The palace

 

They were waiting when Shiera arrived wearing an amazing dress made with the colors of her Courts and a white-silver crown shining on her black hair.

 

She had always looked like a princess but dressed like that, she was a queen.

 

The Queen of Waves and Starlight.

 

* * *

 

 She arrived by his mate's side as Cassian looked at her with astonishment. Nesta approached and nearly made Shiera's heart stop dead with shock as she said, “You look beautiful”. The princess blinked at her. “That, Cassian, was what you were attempting to say” Mor joked, he grumbled something the rest chose not to hear. Shiera tried to be nice, “Thank you. You do as well” she whispered.

 

Then she looked at her court, her family, the males with their wings shining, even Rhys would show those wings he loved with all his heart.

 

“Well, well, well… Twenty gold marks says there’s a fight in the first hour” Cassian said with a wicked grin. “Thirty, and I say within forty-five minutes” Mor opined, crossing her arms. “You do remember there are vows and wards of neutrality” Rhys spoke mildly. “Fifty, and I say within thirty minutes. Started by Autumn” Azriel declared from the door. Rhys rolled his eyes, “Try not to look like you’re all gambling on them. And no cheating by provoking fights” he warned. Their answering grins were anything but reassuring.

 

Rhys sighed, “A hundred marks on a fight within fifteen minutes” he concluded. “Wait, we can have a fight? We can attack them?” Shiera asked surprised. “No one can't attack anyone physically inside the palace, so please, Shiera darling… I know you can be… impulsive sometimes, so try not to attack anyone, my love” Rhys spoke looking at her green eyes.

 

“Why would she attack anyone?” Nesta inquired. “Our Court is not the most beloved one, we have enemies, Eris, Tamlin…” Alec explained. “I… I can loose my temper sometimes, when I was at the Spring Court and Tamlin said anything against this Court… I was able to calm myself because I was alone but now… If he says anything I won't be able to do anything?” Shiera observed.

 

“Congratulations, you have joined our club” Cassian joked.

 

* * *

 

Mor will winnow Cassian, Alec would go with Nesta, Rhys with Shiera and Azriel instantly vanished. First to arrive, first to see if any trap awaited. In silence, they waited; one minute, two. Then Rhys blew out a breath and said, “Clear. Varian and Cress are already there”. He threaded his fingers through Shiera's, gripping tightly as they winnowed.

 

Enormous clouds drifting in the cobalt sky, soft and magnanimous, still tinged by the rose remnants of sunrise, their round edges gilded with the golden light. The dewy freshness of morning lingered in the balmy air as we peered up at the mountain-palace spiraling into the heavens above. If the palace above the Court of Nightmares had been crafted of moonstone, this was made from… sunstone. Shiers didn’t have a word for the near-opalescent golden stone that seemed to hold the gleaming of a thousand sunrises within it. Steps and balconies and archways and verandas and bridges linked the towers and gilded domes of the palace, periwinkle morning glories climbing the pillars and neatly cut blocks of stone to drink in the gilded mists wafting by.

 

Rhys’ hand tightened on Shiera's, “Well, even if Thesan has a prettier palace, I’m the only one blessed with a High Lady at my side” he purred and his mate couldn’t help her blush. “Four others are here already” Rhys warned her, and she had the feeling that was what Azriel was now murmuring to Mor and Cassian, “Helion, Kallias, Thesan, Cress and Varian”. The High Lords of Day, Winter, their host, Dawn and her family from Adriata.

 

“Shields up?” Rhys asked, but she knew he was aware hers had been raised since Velaris. Just as she was aware that he’d put a shield, mental and physical, around all of them, terms of peace or no. And though his face was calm, his shoulders thrown back, “I see all of you, Rhys. And there is not one part that I do not love with everything that I am” Shiera whispered gently through the bond.

 

His hand squeezed hers in answer before she interlaced her arm with his. “You bow to no one, my love” he murmured.


	4. High Lady

Deep-cushioned oak chairs had been arranged in a massive circle in the heart of the room, enough for all the High Lords and their delegates. Some had been shaped to accommodate wings, it seemed it was not unusual. For clustered around a beautiful, slender male who Shiera immediately remembered from Under the Mountain were winged Fae. If the Illyrians had batlike wings, those… they were like birds, like angels.

  
“The Peregryns are distantly related to Drakon’s Seraphim people and provide Thesan with a small aerial legion” Rhys said to his princess of the muscular, golden-armored males and females gathered. “The male on his left is his captain and lover”, indeed, the handsome male stood just a tad closer to his High Lord, one hand on the fine sword at his side. “No mating bond yet, but I think Thesan didn’t dare acknowledge it while Amarantha reigned. She delighted in ripping out their feathers, one by one. She made a dress out of them once” Rhys confessed.

  
Shiera tried not to wince as we stepped onto the polished marble floor, the stone warmed with the sun streaming through the open archways. The others had looked toward them, some murmuring at the sight of Rhys’s wings, but her attention went to the true gem of the chamber: the reflection pool.

  
Rather than a table occupying the space between that circle of chairs, a shallow, circular reflection pool was carved into the floor itself. Its dark water was laden with pink and gold water lilies, the pads broad and flat as a male’s hand, and beneath them pumpkin-and-ivory fish lazily swam about. Shiera admired how the bright fishes swam but she remembered that she should behave like a lady so she couldn't kneel to feel the fresh water through her fingers.

 

* * *

 

Cress and Varian were the first ones to saw them and they approached. When they arrived, Varian wrapped Shiera between his arms as she hugged him with strength. She dropped a kiss on his cheek as Rhys hugged Cresseida.

 

Then her mate and Varian shaked hands as Cress and Shiera cuddled together. “This dress… The perfect combination indeed…” the silver-haired princess commented with a grin as Shiera smiled too. “Thank you, and… Thank you for the crown” she spoke in a low voice to both of them as she joined Rhys again.

 

“It's yours, it had always been” Cress declared with a sweet smirk.

 

“Now as a High Lady you have the honor to go and talk with them” Varian joked pointing the High Lords with his head.

 

* * *

 

Thesan glided forward, his embroidered, exquisite shoes silent on the floor, his tunic was tight-fitting through his slender chest, but flowing pants whispered with movement as he approached. His brown skin and hair were kissed with gold, as if the sunrise had permanently gilded them, but his upswept eyes, the rich brown of freshly tilled fields, were his loveliest feature.

 

He paused a few feet away, taking in Rhys and me, their entourage, the wings that Rhys kept folded behind him.

  
“Welcome” Thesan said, his voice as deep and rich as those eyes, his lover monitored our every breath from a few feet behind, no doubt realizing their own companions were doing the same behind them. “Or since you’ve called this meeting, perhaps you should be doing the welcoming?” Thesan mused. A faint smile ghosted Rhys’s perfect face, shadows twining between the strands of his hair, he’d loosened the damper on his power just a bit, they all had. “I may have requested the meeting, Thesan, but you were the one gracious enough to offer up your beautiful residence”.

  
Thesan gave a nod of thanks, perhaps deeming it impolite to inquire about Rhysand’s newly revealed wings, then turned to Shiera. They stared at each other while their companions bowed behind her, as a High Lord’s wife should have done with them. Yet she simply stood and stared.  
  
Dawn, the gift of healing, his gift that had allowed me to save Rhysand and Alec's life, Cassian's wings, lots of lives in Velaris and Adriata… That day with Rhys had sent her to the Suriel, that day she had learned the truth that would alter her eternity.

  
Shiera offered Thesan a sweet smile, “Your home is lovely” she whispered but Thesan’s attention had gone to the tattoo, she knew he realized it the moment he  
noticed the ink covered the wrong hand. Then the rings on her finger, the one from the Summer Court and the one from the Night Court.

 

Finally, the crown atop her head, his brows flicked up, Rhys only shrugged.

 

* * *

 

The other two High Lords had approached,  “Kallias” Rhys said to the white-haired one, whose skin was so pale it looked frozen. Even his crushing blue eyes seemed like chips hewn from a glacier as he studied Rhys’s wings and seemed to instantly dismiss them. He wore a jacket of royal blue embroidered with silver thread, its collar and sleeves dusted with white rabbit fur.

 

A trio of similarly colored High Fae remained in their seats, one of them a stunning young female who looked right at Mor, and grinned. Mor returned the beam, hopping from one foot to another as Kallias opened his mouth and then her sister squealed. Both females hurtled for each other, and Mor’s squeal had turned to a quiet sob as she flung her arms around the slender stranger and hugged her tight, the female’s own arms were shaking as she gripped Mor.

  
Then they were laughing and crying and dancing around each other, pausing to study each other’s faces, to wipe away tears, and then embracing again. “You look the same” the stranger was saying, beaming from ear to ear, “I think that’s the same dress I saw you in...”. “You look the same! Wearing fur in the middle of summer, how utterly typical...” Mor laughed.

  
“You brought the usual suspects, it seems...” the female commented. “Thankfully, the company has been improved by some new arrivals...” Mor waved the Summer sisters over. “Viviane, meet Shiera and Cresseida, Princesses of Adriata. Ladies… Meet Viviane, Kallias’s wife” Mor spoke introducing the females to each other.

  
Kallias watched his wife and Mor with raised brows, “I tried to suggest she stay at home, but she threatened to freeze my balls off” Kallias said drily. Rhys let out a dark chuckle, “Sounds familiar” he murmured and Shiera gave him a vicious grin. But the smirk fade from Kallias’s face as he truly took in Rhys, not just the wings this time. Her mate’s own amusement dimmed, some thread of tension going taut between him and Kallias.

  
Vivian's silver hair glittered in the sun like fresh snow, “Wife, you know, it still sounds strange to me. Every time someone says it, I keep looking over my shoulder as if it’ll be someone else” Viviane said, clicking her tongue. Kallias said to none of us in particular, from where he remained facing Rhys, stiff-backed, “I have yet to decide if I find it insulting. Since she says it every day”, Viviane stuck out her tongue at him.

 

“Thank you, for returning my mate to me from Under the Mountain” Viviane spoke, her blue eyes meeting Shiera's green ones. “Mates?” Mor fizzed, glancing between them, “Married and mates?”. “You two do realize that this is a serious meeting” Rhys said, “And that the fish in the pool are very sensitive to high-pitched sounds” Kallias added.

  
Viviane gave them both a vulgar gesture but Shiera started to laugh. Rhys looked to Kallias with what I assumed was some sort of long-suffering male expression, but the High Lord did not return it, he only stared at Rhys, amusement again gone, that coldness settling in across his  
face.

 

Then Viviane took Shiera and Cress' hands between her own, “I… I know that I didn't met him but… Kallias told me about Tarquin and I… I am really, really sorry” she spoke gently. Shiera's heart ached suddenly, she wasn't ready to talk about him. Cress noticed how her sister's breath stopped and she was able to reply in a whisper “Thank you”.

 

* * *

 

 

The third High Lord approached, his clothes had been formed from a single bolt of white fabric, not a robe, not a dress, but rather something in between, pleated and draped over his muscular body. A golden cuff of an upright serpent encircled one powerful bicep, offsetting his near-glowing dark skin, and a radiant crown of golden spikes, the rays of the sun, glistened atop his onyx hair.

  
The sun personified, powerful, lazy with grace, capable of kindness and wrath but somehow  colder than Kallias.

  
His High Fae entourage was almost as large as theirs, clad in similar robes of varying rich dyes, cobalt and crimson and amethyst, some with expertly kohl-lined eyes, all of them fit and gleaming with health. For Helion’s other title was Spell-Cleaver, and his one thousand libraries were rumored to contain the knowledge of the world, perhaps all that knowledge had made him too aware, too cold behind those bright eyes.

Or perhaps that had come after Amarantha had looted some of those libraries for herself, Shiera wondered if he’d reclaimed what she’d taken, or if he mourned what she’d burned.

 

Helion jerked his square chin to Rhys, the only one of them, it seemed, not surprised by her mate’s wings, but his eyes, a striking amber, fell on Shiera. “Does Tamlin know what she is?” his voice was indeed colder than Kallias’s, and the question so carefully worded. Rhys drawled, “If you mean beautiful, then yes, I think he does. But he has misunderstood how clever she is”. Helion leveled a flat look at him, “Does he know she is your mate… and High Lady?”.

  
“High Lady?” Viviane squeaked, but Mor shushed her, drawing her away to whisper.

  
Thesan and Kallias took her, slowly, Cassian, Azriel and Alec, casually slid closer, no more than a night breeze.

  
“If he arrives, I suppose we’ll find out” Rhys said smoothly. Helion let out a dark laugh; dangerous, he was utterly lethal, this High Lord kissed by the sun, “I always liked you, Rhysand” he murmured and Shiera laughed through the bond.

 

“Why can’t I be High Lady as well?” Viviane muttered to Kallias, jabbing him in the ribs.

 


	5. Kallias and Viviane's story

They took their seats around the reflection pool, Thesan’s impeccably mannered attendants bringing them plates of food and goblets of exotic juices from the tables against the wall. Conversation halted and flowed, Mor and Viviane sitting next to each other to catch up on what seemed like fifty years’ worth of gossip.

  
Viviane had not been Under the Mountain. As her childhood friend, Kallias had been protective of her to a fault over the years, had placed the sharp-minded female on border duty for decades to avoid the scheming of his court. He didn’t let her near Amarantha, either, didn’t let anyone get a whiff of what he felt for his white-haired friend, who had no clue that he had loved her his entire life. And in those last moments, when his power had been ripped from him by that spell… Kallias had flung out the remnants to warn her, to tell Viviane he loved her. And then he begged her to protect their people, so she had.

 

As Mor and her family had protected Velaris, Viviane had veiled and guarded the small city under her watch, offering safe harbor to those who made it. Never forgetting the High Lord and friend trapped Under the Mountain, never ceasing her hunt for finding a way to free him, especially while Amarantha unleashed her horrors upon his court to break them, punish them. Yet Viviane held them together, and through that reign of terror, during all those years, she realized what Kallias was to her, what she felt for him in return.

  
The day he’d returned home, he’d winnowed right to her, she’d kissed him before he could speak a word. He’d then knelt down and asked her to be his wife. They went an hour later to a temple and swore their vows, and that night, during the you-know, Viviane grinned at Mor, the mating bond at last snapped into place.


	6. Tamlin

An attendant whispered to Thesan that Beron and all of his sons had arrived, the smile instantly vanished from Mor’s mouth, her eyes, from Shiera's as well. The violence simmering off her family was enough to boil the pool at our toes as the High Lord of Autumn filed through the archway, his sons in rank behind him, his wife, Lucien’s mother at his side. Her russet eyes scanned the room, as if looking for that missing son, she had saved her life once, Under the Mountain, in exchange for her sparing Lucien’s.

  
Did she wonder where her lost son was now? She couldn’t tell her that Lucien currently hunted the continent, dodging armies, for an enchanted queen, to find a scrap of salvation.

  
Beron, slender-faced and brown-haired. didn’t bother to look anywhere but at the High Lords assembled, but his remaining sons sneered at them. Sneered enough that the Peregryns ruffled their feathers, even Varian flashed his teeth in warning at the leer Cresseida earned from one of them. Their father didn’t bother to check them, but Eris did, a step behind his father, Eris murmured “Enough” and his younger brothers fell into line,  the three of them. Whether Beron noticed or cared, he did not let on, he merely stopped halfway across the room, hands folded before him, and scowled, as if we were a pack of mongrels.

  
Beron, the oldest among them, the most awful, Rhys smoothly greeted him, though his power was a dark mountain shuddering beneath us, “It’s no surprise that you’re tardy, given that your own sons were too slow to catch my mate. I suppose it runs in the family” he commented with a grin.

  
Beron’s lips curled slightly as he looked to Shiera, her crown, “Mate… and High Lady. Such an incredible female… Tarquin's wife and widow, Tamlin's runaway bride and now… Rhysand's mate… Three out of seven, who could have told?” he murmured.

 

The other High Lords then looked also at Shiera, how her arm joined Rhys', how her wedding ring was next to an engagement one from the Night Court, how her dress matched her Courts.

 

* * *

 

Thesan, as host, began “Rhysand, you have called this meeting. Pushed us to gather sooner than we intended. Now would be the time to explain what is so urgent” he spoke. Rhys blinked, slowly “Surely the invading armies landing on our shores explain enough”. “So you have called us to do what, exactly?” Helion challenged, bracing his forearms on his muscled, gleaming thighs, “Raise a unified army?” he inquired.

  
“Among other things” Rhys said mildly, “We...”.

  
It was almost the same entrance, almost the same as that night in the oldcottage, when the door had shattered and a beast had charged in with the freezing cold and roared at them. He did not bother with the landing balcony, or the escorts, he did not have an entourage. Like a crack of lightning, vicious as a spring storm, he winnowed into the chamber itself. And Shiera's blood went colder than Kallias’s ice as Tamlin appeared, and smiled like a wolf.

 

* * *

 

Absolute silence, absolute stillness.

  
Shiera felt the tremor of magic slide through the room as shield after shield locked into place around each High Lord and his retinue, the one Rhysand had already snapped around us, now reinforcing… Rage laced its essence, wrath and rage, even if her mate’s face was bored, lazy. She tried to school hers into the cold caution with which Varian regarded him, or the vague distaste on Mor’s, Alec giving him a deathly glare, remembering Hybern.

 

Shiera tried, and failed utterly she knew his moods, his temper, there was the High Lord who had shredded those naga into bloody ribbons; there was the High Lord who had impaled Amarantha on Lucien’s sword and ripped out her throat with his teeth.

  
All of it, gleaming in those eyes as they fixed on her, on Rhys, Tamlin’s teeth were white as crow-picked bones as he smiled broadly.

  
Thesan rose, his captain remaining seated beside him, albeit with a hand on his sword, “We were not expecting you, Tamlin.” Thesan gestured with a slender hand toward his cringing attendants, “Fetch the High Lord a chair”. Tamlin did not tear his gaze from the princess, from her mate, her court, her families. His smile turned subdued, yet somehow more unnerving, more vicious.

  
He wore his usual green tunic, no crown, no adornments.

 

Beron drawled, “I will admit, Tamlin, that I am surprised to see you here” Tamlin didn’t alter his focus from her, from every breath she took. “Rumor claims your allegiance now lies elsewhere”, Tamlin’s gaze shifted, but down, to the other ring on her finger, the tattoo adorning her right hand, then it rose right to that crown she had picked for herself. Shiera didn’t know what to say, what to do with her body, her breathing. No more masks, no more lies and deceptions. The truth, now sprawled bare and open before him, what she had done in her rage, the lies she had fed him.

 

Rhys felt her fear and he helded her hand sweetly.

 

Thesan cleared his throat but no one looked toward him, not as Tamlin surveyed the hand Rhys had resting on his mate's. The loathing in Tamlin’s eyes practically simmered, no one, not even Amarantha or the King, had ever looked at her with such hatred. No, they hadn’t really known her, their loathing had been superficial, driven from a personal history that poisoned everything. Tamlin… Tamlin knew Shiera and then he hated every inch of what she was.

  
He opened his mouth, and she braced herself, “It would seem congratulations are in order”. The words were flat and yet sharp as his claws, currently hidden beneath his golden skin. Shiera said nothing, Rhys only held Tamlin’s stare, held it with a face like ice, and yet utter rage roiled beneath it, cataclysmic rage, surging and writhing down the bond between them.

  
But her mate addressed Thesan, who had reclaimed his seat, yet seemed far from any sort of ease, “We can discuss the matter at hand later”. “Don’t stop on my account” Tamlin said calmly. The light in Rhysand’s eyes guttered, as if a hand of darkness wiped away those stars, remembering his mother, his sister, how Shiera broke at the floral Court, how the King had threatened his son, how Shiera had been whipped.

 

He reclined in his chair, withdrawing his hand from Shiera’s hand to trace idle circles on her knee, “I’m not in the business of discussing our plans with enemies”. Helion, across the reflection pool, grinned like a lion. “No, you’re just in the business of fucking them” Tamlin said with equal ease.

  
Every thought and sound eddied out of Shiera’s head, her blood froze, her heart stopped. Varian and Cresseida glanced at the golden High Lord, the hate (voslumvrándose) through their blue eyes. Cassian, Alec, Azriel, and Mor were still as death, their fury rippling off them in silent waves, but whether Tamlin noticed or cared that four of the deadliest people in that room were currently contemplating his demise, he didn’t let on.

 

Shiera felt how Rhys didn't even breath, how his mind focused on his family by their side, from his Inner Circle only his mate and his son knew why Alec would be his only heir, why he couldn't have more children, what he had endured fifty years.

 

Rhys shrugged, smiling faintly, “Seems a far less destructive alternative to war”, “And yet here you are, having started it in the first place” Tamlin replied. Rhysand’s blink was the only sign of his confusion. A claw slid out of Tamlin’s knuckle, Kallias tensed, a hand drifting to the arm of Viviane’s chair, as if he’d throw himself in front of it, but Tamlin only dragged that claw lightly down the carved arm of his own chair, as he’d once dragged them down her skin. He smiled as if he knew precisely what memory it triggered, but said to her mate, “If you hadn’t stolen my bride away in the night, Rhysand, I would not have been forced to take such drastic measures to get her back”.

 

“The sun was shining when I left you, both times” Shiera spoke coldly, glaring at him. His eyes slid to her, glazed and foreign, he let out a low snort, then looked away again.  
  
Kallias asked, “Why are you here, Tamlin?”, Tamlin’s claw dug into the wood, puncturing deep even as his voice remained mild, Shiera had no doubt that gesture was meant for her, too.

 

“I bartered access to my lands to get back the woman I love from a sadist who plays with minds as if they are toys. I meant to fight Hybern, to find a way around the bargain I made with the king once she was back. Only Rhysand and his cabal had turned her into one of them, and she delighted in ripping open my territory for Hybern to invade. All for a petty grudge, either her own or her… master’s” Tamlin let out.

  
“Wonderful Tamlin, once again you put your incisive mind to work, and once again you fail at your conclusion” she spoke with an evil grin.

 

“After all your dear mate did… Tell me, princess, when is a monster not a monster?” he hissed and the princess felt Rhysand tightening by her side. Rhys thought that he was a monster and Tamlin was reminding it again… Shiera couldn't bear that so she defended her brave mate.

 

“Get yourself a mirror, Tamlin. You didn't help me at all, you nearly rape me during Calanmai, you forced me to marry you and then you made an alliance with Ianthe and Hybern, you sold Nesta and Elain to them, we nearly die there, you whipped a loyal man based only in what that priestess…” Shiera let out a sigh, “You are here alleging that Rhys is a monster and the truth is that he is not but you are. You are capable of see the (paja) in someone else eye but you aren't capable of see the (viga) in your own”.

  
Tamlin only angled his head at Shiera, “When you fuck him, have you ever felt how Tarquin would be spinning in his grave?” he spoke coldly. Shiera's heart stopped again,  that wasn’t outright battle, but a steady, careful shredding of her dignity, her credibility.

 

Beron beamed, delighted, while Eris carefully monitored.

  
Rhys idn't move but she felt their bond shiver, a storm about to be unleashed.

  
But it was Alec who said, his voice like cold death, “Be careful how you speak about my… High Lady”.

 

Shiera felt an endless wave of love for her mate's son crashing against her heart, she turned her head to him, and Alec's blue gaze met her, in understanding. Surprise flashed in Tamlin’s eyes, then vanished, swallowed by pure fury as he realized what that tattoo coating her hand was for.

 

“It was not enough to sit at my side, was it?”, a hateful smile curled his lips,“You once asked me if you’d be my High Lady, and when I said no…”, a low laugh “Perhaps I underestimated you. Why serve in my Court, when you could rule in his?” he spoke glaring at her. “When I married Tarquin I only focused in being with him, I didn't care anything else. Then you locked me, forced me to marry you… You didn't want a wife, you wanted a pretty flower by your side to push out your heirs, you didn't even allow me to think… Rhys made me High Lady, I didn't ask for it. Again, I only focused in mating him” the princess replied.

 

“Shiera is now High Lady of the Night and the Summer Court. Rhys crowned her and then the people of Adriata chose her. She didn't want power but we gave it to her and she is a great leader that you could ever be” Varian added. Tamlin's cheeks turned a little red as fury mask covered his face, “If you are not longer a High Lord you have no right to talk to me like that”. “You are the one who is an ally of Hybern, you are the one who doesn't even deserve to kiss his boots. Somewhere there is a tree producing oxygen so you can breathe, I think you owe an apology” Shiera hissed.

  
Tamlin at last faced the other gathered High Lords and their retinues, “They peddle tales of defending our land and peace and yet she came to my lands and laid them bare  
for Hybern. She took my High Priestess and warped her mind, after she shattered her bones for spite. And if you are asking yourself what happened to that human girl who went Under the Mountain to save her husband… Look to the male sitting beside her. Ask what he stands to gain, what they stand to gain from this war, or lack of it. Would we fight Hybern, only to find ourselves with a Queen and King of Prythian? She’s proved her ambition, and you saw how he was more than happy to serve Amarantha to remain unscathed”.

 

Shiera felt her muscles tightening, her lips pursing, trying to calm the roaring fire inside her veins as she noticed how Alec groaned. Rhys let out a dark laugh, “Well played, Tamlin. You’re learning”. Ire contorted Tamlin’s face at the condescension, but he faced Kallias “You asked why I’m here? I might ask the same of you”, he jerked his chin at the High Lord of Winter, at Viviane, the few other members of their retinue who had remained silent.

 

“You mean to tell me that after Under the Mountain, you can stomach working with him?”, a finger flung in Rhysand’s direction.

  
Shiera wanted to rip that finger right off Tamlin’s hand and feed it to the Middengard Wyrm.

  
The silvery glow about Kallias dulled, even Viviane seemed to dim, “We came here to decide that for ourselves”. Mor was staring at her friend in quiet question, Viviane for the first time since they’d arrived, did not look toward her, only at her mate.

 

Shiera understood what Tamlin meant, those children, the ones that Rhys and the other daemati had…

 

“Lie” she spoke through the bond, “Tell them that was only the other daemati’s fault, they weren't there, they can't prove you wrong” she whispered. Rhys didn't reply, “Please, if you trust me…” Shiera tried again but before she could finish, Rhys began to speak softly to everyone, “I had no involvement in that. None” he said and Shiera felt relief.

  
Kallias’s eyes flared like blue flame, “You stood beside her throne while the order was given”. Shiera watched, stomach twisting, as Rhys’s golden skin paled, “I tried to stop it”. “Tell that to the parents of the two dozen younglings she butchered, that you tried” Kallias said. Rhys’s mouth tightened, “There is not one day that passes when I don’t remember it,” he said to Kallias, to Viviane, to their companions, “Not one day”. “Remembering, doesn’t bring them back, does it?” Kallias said, “No,” Rhys said plainly, “No, it doesn’t. And I am now fighting to make sure it never happens again”.

  
Viviane glanced between her husband and Rhys, “I was not present Under the Mountain. But I would hear, High Lord, how you tried to… stop her”.

 

Pain tightened her face. She, too, had been unable to prevent it while she guarded her small slice of the territory. Rhys said nothing, Beron snorted “Finally speechless, Rhysand?”.

 

Winter had rebelled against Amarantha. And the children… that had been Amarantha’s answer. Her punishment for the disobedience

  
Shiera put a hand on Rhys’s arm, she had no doubt Tamlin marked it and she didn’t care. The princess said to her mate, not bothering to keep her voice down, “I believe you”.

 

“Says the woman, who gave an innocent girl’s name in her stead, for Amarantha to butcher as well” Beron countered.m“The name I gave was fake, it didn’t belong to anyone. All the hopes of breaking the curse were gone but Amarantha needed to show her power so she killed Clare as revenge when she found out that the name I gave wasn’t real. If you are going to keep saying nonsenses, shut up” Shiera spoke with her brows raised, remarking every word.

  
Rhys swallowed, she tightened her grip on his arm, his voice was rough as he said to Kallias, “When your people rebelled… She was furious, she wanted you dead, Kallias”,   
Viviane’s face drained of color, Rhys went on, “I … convinced her that it would serve little purpose”.

  
“Who knew,” Beron mused, “that a cock could be so persuasive?”, “Father” Eris’s voice was low with warning.

 

Shiera bite her tongue with strength, trying not to roar at Lucien's father. For Alec, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Shiera had fixed their gazes upon Beron, and none of them were smiling, perhaps Eris would be High Lord sooner than he planned.

 

But Rhys went on to Kallias, “She backed off the idea of killing you. Your rebels were dead, I convinced her it was enough. I thought it was the end of it”, his breathing hitched slightly, “I only found out when you did. I think she viewed my defense of you as a warning sign, she didn’t tell me any of it. And she kept me… confined. I tried to break  
into the minds of the soldiers she sent, but her damper on my power was too strong to hold them, and it was already done. She… she sent a daemati with them. To… I think she wanted you to suspect me. To keep us from ever allying against her”.

  
“Where did she confine you?” the question came from Viviane, her arms wrapped around her middle. Neither Shiera or Alec were entirely ready for it when Rhys said, “Her bedroom”.

  
Their family did not hide their rage, their grief at the details he’d kept even from them.

  
“Stories and words” Tamlin said, lounging in his chair, “Is there any proof?”. “Proof...” Cassian and Alec snarled, half rising in their seats, the older with his wings starting to flare. Mor blocked Alec with an arm, forcing him to sit as Azriel did the same with Cassian.

 

Rhysand's son felt the fury through his veins, he couldn't bear how his father was being humiliating, how he was ashamed due to all those years. But he was grateful, grateful beyond reason that Shiera was by his side, knowing how the young princess was supporting his father. He understood why they were mates, why his father loved the green-eyed female so much, why he thought that he didn't deserved her.

  
For the first time since Shiera had known him, Rhys’s skin was clammy, she reached down the bond, even as Rhys held Kallias’s stare. She did not have any words, only herself, only her soul, as she curled up against his towering shields of black adamant. He’d known what coming there, presented just as they were, would cost him. What he might have to reveal beyond the wings and the bond he loved so dearly.

 

Tamlin rolled his eyes, it took every scrap of restraint to keep her from lunging for him, from ripping out those eyes.

  
But whatever Kallias read in Rhys’s face, his words… He pinned Tamlin with a hard stare as he asked again, “Why are you here, Tamlin?”. A muscle flickered in Tamlin’s jaw “I am here to help you fight against Hybern”, “Bullshit” Cassian muttered. Tamlin glowered at him, Cassian, folding his wings in neatly as he leaned back in his chair once more, just offered a crooked grin in return.

  
“You will forgive us,” Thesan interrupted gracefully, “if we are doubtful. And hesitant to share any plans”, “Even when I have information on Hybern’s movements?” Tamlin replied.

 

Then he smiled, “Why do you think I invited them to the house? Into my lands?”, he let out a low snarl, and Shiera felt Rhys tensing as Tamlin said to her, “I once told you I would fight against tyranny, against that sort of evil. Did you think you were enough to turn me from that?”, his teeth shone white as bone, “It was so easy for you to call me a monster, despite all I did for you, for your family. Yet you witnessed all that he did Under the Mountain, and still spread your legs for him. Fitting, I suppose. He whored for Amarantha for decades. Why shouldn’t you be his whore in return?”.

  
“Watch your mouth” Mor snapped as Shiera was having difficulty swallowing, breathing. Tamlin ignored her wholly and waved a hand toward Rhysand’s wings, “I sometimes forget what you are. Have the masks come off now, or is this another ploy?”.

  
“You’re beginning to become tedious, Tamlin” Helion said, propping his head on a hand, “Take your lovers’spat elsewhere and let the rest of us discuss this war”. “You’d be all too happy for war, considering how well you made out in the last one” Tamlim opined, “No one says war can’t be lucrative” Helion countered.

  
“Enough,” Kallias said, “We have our opinions on how the conflict with Hybern should be dealt with”, those glacial eyes hardened as he again took in Tamlin, “Are you here as an ally of Hybern or Prythian?”. The mocking, hateful gleam faded into granite resolve, “I stand against Hybern” he declared, “Prove it” Helion goaded. Tamlin lifted his hand, and a stack of papers appeared on the little table beside his chair, “Charts of armies, ammunition, caches of faebane… Everything carefully gleaned these months”.

  
“Noble as it sounds” Helion went on, “who is to say that information is correct, or that you aren’t Hybern’s agent, trying to mislead us?”. “Who is to say that Rhysand and his cronies are not agents of Hybern, all of this a ruse to get you to yield without realizing it?” the golden High Lord commented.

 

“Tamlin, get some sense in what you are saying...” Varian began, “He won't, it's a habbit” Shiera replied raising her browns with a evil smirk curving her red lips.

 

“If we need to ally against Hybern” Thesan said, “you are doing a good job of convincing us not to band together, Tamlin”.

  
“I am simply warning you that they might present the guise of honesty and friendship, but the fact remains that he warmed Amarantha’s bed for fifty years, and only worked against her when it seemed the tide was turning. I’m warning you that while he claims his own city was attacked by Hybern, they made off remarkably well, as if they’d been anticipating it. Don’t think he wouldn’t sacrifice a few buildings and lesser faeries to lure you into an alliance, into thinking you had a common enemy. Why is it that only the Night Court got word about the attack on Adriata, and were the only ones to arrive in time to play savior?”.

 

Shiera trembled with her fury burning inside her, feeling Rhys’ shame, how he had felt when he saw his city, his beloved city being attacked. “Ther's comfort in knowing that people like you they got a spot in hell” the princess laughed, glaring at the golden High Lord.

 

“What do you want? An apology? For me to crawl back into your bed and play nice, little flower?” Shiera hissed.

  
“Why should I want spoiled goods returned to me? Since the moment you ran away with him. What a shame... On my Court you would have been my wife, the wife of the male who killed Amarantha, instead you chose to be the mate of the male who fucked her. You gave your life for saving your husband's and yet you have become the whore of Amarantha's whore. Have you forget that she killed you, that she murdered your husband, what she did to everyone in Prythian? Eras la viuda de un hombre noble y generoso pero decidiste… Es una suerte que Tarquin esté muerto, sino lo habría matado tu desleal corazón”.

 

Shiera couldn't move, couldn't breathe, that was her weakness, her love for her husband, and Tamlin knew. Tarquin was a martyr, he had gave his life for Prythian, he had fought against Amarantha and everyone loved him, he had been sweet, kind and nice. Tamlin knew what would break their defenses and he did, Cress and Varian were shocked, the Inner Circle groaning, Rhys was like an ice wall and Shiera…

 

Shiera felt her heart aching, her lower lip trembling, her teeth biting her tonge, trying to avoid crying, trying to calm the sobs threatening through her throat, her eyes lined in silver, with tears ready to fall.

 

“Tarquin gave his life for us but you ran away from my Court, you ran away with… Your mate. Everything you have been doing since you left my Court has been betraying Tarquin's memory. You have been (escupiendo) on his sacrifice since you…”.

 

One heartbeat, the poisoned words were spewing from his mouth, where fangs lengthened, then they stopped. Tamlin’s mouth simply stopped emitting sounds, he shut his mouth, opened it, tried again but no sound, not even a snarl, came out. There was no smile on Rhysand’s face, not a glint of that irreverent amusement as he rested his head against the back of his chair “The gasping-fish look is a good one for you, Tamlin” he spoke while drawing soft circles in Shiera’s hand.

  
The others, who had been watching with disdain and amusement and boredom, now turned to her mate,  now possessed a shadow of fear in their eyes as they realized who and what, exactly, sat amongst them. Brethren, and yet not, Tamlin was a High Lord, as powerful as any of them, except for the one at her side, Rhys was as different from them as humans were to Fae, they forgot it, sometimes how deep that well of power went.

 

What manner of power Rhys bore, but as Rhysand ripped away Tamlin’s ability to speak, they remembered.


	7. Beron

Shiera looked at Rhys' eyes, but as she blinked slowly and two tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn't saw his bright kindness on those violet skies, she only saw fury, an endless fury knowing what those poisoned words had made his young mate felt. Only the Inner Circle didn’t seem surprised, Tamlin’s eyes were green flame, golden light flickering around him as his magic sought to wrest free from Rhysand’s control.

 

“If you want to blame someone, go on, blame me. But this is a war council, we are here to discuss the future of Prythian, if you want to kill me, you will have to do it after you have helped to save our country” Rhysand spoke coldly. “War is upon us” he continued, “I have no interest in wasting energy arguing amongst ourselves”.

  
The best male, the best leader,  the best High Lord. His restraint, his choice of words… All of it a careful portrayal of reason and power.

 

But Rhysand… Shiera knew he meant what he said, even if Tamlin had been a part of killing his own family, even if he had played his part in what happened in Hybern, how Azriel had been shoot, how Cassian nearly lost his wings, how Alec nearly died, how Shiera, herself had been whipped and locked in the Spring Court again. For their home, for Prythian, he’d set it aside, a sacrifice that would harm no one but his own soul.

  
But Beron said, “You may be inclined to believe him, Rhysand, but as someone who shares a border with his court, I am not so easily swayed”.

 

“Perhaps my errant son can clarify. Pray, where is he?”, even Tamlin looked toward them, toward her. “Helping to guard our city” was all she said, not a lie, not entirely. Eris snorted and surveyed Nesta, who stared back at him with steel in her face, “Pity you didn’t bring the other sister. I hear our little brother’s mate is quite the beauty”.

  
If they knew Elain was Lucien’s mate… It was now another avenue, another way to strike at the youngest brother they hated so fiercely, so unreasonably. Eris’s bargain with us had not included protection of Lucien.

  
But Mor replied smoothly, “You still certainly like to hear yourself talk, Eris. Good to know some things don’t change over the centuries”. Eris’s mouth curled into a smile at the words, the careful game of pretending that they had not seen each other in years. “Good to know that after five hundred years, you still dress like a slut”.

  
One moment, Azriel was seated, the next, he’d blasted through Eris’s shield with a flare of blue light and tackled him backward, wood shattering beneath them.

  
“Shit” Cassian spat, and was instantly there, and met a wall of blue. Azriel had sealed them in, and as his scarred hands wrapped around Eris’s throat. Rhys said, “Enough”. Azriel squeezed, Eris thrashing beneath him, no physical brawling, there had been a rule against that, but Azriel, with whatever power those shadows gave him… “Enough, Azriel” Rhys ordered, perhaps those shadows that now slid and eddied around the shadowsinger hid him from the wrath of the binding magic.

 

Shiera noticed how Mor was shocked and how Cress was astonished.

 

Azriel dug his knee, and all his weight into Eris’s gut, he was silent, utterly silent as he ripped the air from Eris’s body. Beron’s flames struck the blue shield, over and over, but the fire skittered off and fizzled out on the water, any that escaped were torn to shreds by shadows. “Call off your overgrown bat” Beron ordered Rhys. Shiera's mate was enjoying it, bargain with Eris or no.

 

Rhys looked at her, an invitation, “Az” she spoke and Azriel stopped. Eris gasped for air as those scarred hands loosened, as Azriel turned his face toward  
his brother's mate.

  
Shiera could almost see the images that haunted him: the hand Mor had yanked away, her weeping, distraught face as she had screamed at Rhys. And then, behind them, Mor was shaking in her chair, pale and shaking.  


Shiera glared at the Autumn Court members, “They are my family, I don’t care if we are allies in this war. If you insult my friend again, not only I won’t stop him the next time, I will go myself”. Mor was staring and staring at Azriel, who refused to look at her, who refused to do anything but give Eris that death-gaze.

  
Eris, wisely, averted his eyes and said, “Apologies, Morrigan”.

 

Thesan rubbed his temples “This does not bode well”, but Helion smirked at his retinue, crossing an ankle over a knee and flashing those powerful, sleek thighs “Looks like you owe me ten gold marks”.

  
It seemed like the Inner Circle weren’t the only ones who’d placed bets, even if not one of Helion’s entourage answered his mocking smile with one of their own.

 

* * *

 

 “Your staggering generosity aside, will you be joining our forces?” Rhys asked, “I have not yet decided” Beron replied. “Armies take time to raise, you don’t have the luxury of sitting on your ass. You need to rally your soldiers now” Cassian said. Beron only sneered, “I don’t take orders from the bastards of lesser fae whores”.

  
Shiera's heartbeat was so wild she could hear it in every corner of her body, feel it pounding in her arms, her gut. But it was nothing compared to the wrath on Cassian’s face, or the icy rage on Azriel’s, Alec's, Rhys’ and the disgust on Mor’s.

  
“That bastard” Nesta said with utter coolness, though her eyes began to burn, “may wind up being the only person standing in the way of Hybern’s forces and your people”. She didn’t so much as look at Cassian as she said it, but he stared at her, as if he’d never seen her before. “Get out if you’re not going to be helpful” Shiera spoke in a deathly voice.

 

“Did you know that while your mate was warming Amarantha’s bed, most of our people were locked beneath that mountain?” Beron hissed.

  
Shiera didn’t deign responding.

  
“Did you know that while he had his head between her legs, most of us were fighting to keep our families from becoming the nightly entertainment?”.

  
She tried to shut out the images, the blinding fury, the secrets he had kept, the shame and regret in his heart, how he had lost his entire life in a moment, his wonderful wife, his young son his family… What he had done  to keep Amarantha distracted… How his son had found out…

 

Shiera stopped hearing the words, stopped hearing anything other than her heart, her breathing, the anger throught her veins. She saw Rhys' memories, Alyx hugging him, her smile as bright as the sun itself, Alec as a child pointing at the bright stars flying during Starfall, then Alyx being tortured and murdered as Rhys was chained, Alec growing up without his parents, his mother murdered and his father trapped for over fifty years.

 

Shiera held Rhys' hand with even more strengh as thunders and wind could be heard from the outside, the storm she was creating. Cassian was now trembling two seats down, with restraint. Rhys said nothing, Shiera didn't know even if he was breathing.

  
“That’s enough, Beron” Varian hissed, he knew Rhys' sacrifice, his motives but Beron ignored him. “And now Rhysand wants to play hero, Amarantha’s Whore becomes Hybern’s Destroyer. But if it goes badly…”, a cruel, cold smile, “Will he get on his knees for Hybern? Or just spread his...”.

 

She felt her anger, his shame and regrets and she didn't care that she had promised to stay calm, she needed to set the beast inside her free. “Forgive me” she whispered to Rhys through their bond before the explosion.

 

She rose as the water of the pool did too, surrounding her, her own fire and water around Beron's shield. All her fury, her anger… Shiera trembled but extended a hand toward the High Lord of the Autumn Court. She closed her hand slowly, feeling her infinite power, Beron (choking), she couldn't attack him physically but indeed she wasn't, it was her fire and water which were doing it under her command.

 

The others shouted, shooting to their feet, but I couldn’t think, couldn’t hear anything but Tamlin and Beron’s words, see those moments Under the Mountain, see that nightmare of Amarantha leading Rhys down the hall, what Rhys had endured…

  
“Shiera” his voice spoke but she ignored it and sent a wave of water from the reflection pond to encircle, Beron and his chair, a bubble without air. Flame pounded against it, turning water to steam, but she pushed harder, she would kill him, kill him and gladly be done with it. “Shiera”. She couldn’t tell if Rhysand was yelling it, if he was murmuring it down the bond, maybe both.

  
Beron’s flame barrier slammed into her water, hard enough that ripples began to form, steam hissing amongst them. So she bared her teeth and sent a fist of white light punching into that fiery shield, the white light of the Day Court. Spell-breaker, ward-cleaver. Beron’s eyes widened as his shields began to fray, as that water and fire pushed in.

  
Then hands were on her waist, her back. “You’ve proved your point, my love” his words calmed and yet insistent. Into her mind he whispered, “I love you, the words of that hateful bastard don’t mean anything. He has nothing of joy in his life, nothing good, but we do”.

  
Shiera began to hear things, the trickling water of the pool, the crackle of flames, the quick breathing of those around them, the cursing of Beron trapped in that tightening cocoon of light and water.

 

“I love you” Rhys whispered again, he didn't care that everyone else had heard.

  
Shiera let go of her magic, she lowered her hand and turned her face to look at Rhys violet eyes, now filled with an limitless love. Beron’s flames exploded like an unfurling flower, and bounced harmlessly off the shield Rhys had thrown around them.  


Helion rubbed his jaw as he sat down once more, “I wondered where it went, that little bit. So small, like a fish missing a single scale. But I still felt whenever something  
brushed against that empty spot”, a smirk at Rhys, “No wonder you made her High Lady”. “I made her High Lady” Rhys said simply, his right arm around her waist, his left hand holding her's, “because I love her and she has the best brain and heart that Prythian has ever seen. Her power was the last thing I considered”.

  
Shiera was beyond words, beyond basic feelings while looking at his amazing eyes.

 

“You knew of her powers?” Helion asked Tamlin but he was only watching Shiera and Rhys, her's mate’s declaration hanging between them. “It was none of your business” was all Tamlin said to Helion, to all of them, “I think it is. The power belongs to us not to that human filth” Beron seethed.

  
Rhys shattered through Beron’s shield, his fire, his defenses; shattered through them like a stone hurled into a window, and slammed his dark power into Beron so hard he rocked back in his seat. Then that seat disintegrated into black, sparkling dust beneath him, leaving Beron to fall on his ass, glittering ebony dust drifted away on a phantom wind, staining Beron’s crimson jacket, clinging like clumps of ash to his brown hair.

 

“Don’t ever,” Rhys said, his left hand sliding into his pockets, “speak to my mate like that again”.


End file.
